


It's In The Top-Right Drawer

by baking_breadjamin



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Kindof Angst, M/M, and ermal is nosy, and is bad at hiding stuff, basically they're both idiots come sempre, fabri is an anxious shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 18:52:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baking_breadjamin/pseuds/baking_breadjamin
Summary: With the last period dotted, Fabrizio folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope and sealed it before sliding it in the top-left drawer to let sit. And it did sit for a month, perhaps two. There was the occasional glimpse of the envelope when he was looking for something in his desk, but soon enough all the emotions within that envelope were buried and forgotten among various papers and items.Until the day Ermal came to visit.





	It's In The Top-Right Drawer

Tonight, Fabrizio was certain that Ermal would be the death of him.

Tonight, he had gone out with Ermal, who was in Rome for a nearby event today. After the function, they went out for drinks. Not many--just a few--considering Ermal really couldn't hold his alcohol and not only did Ermal not feel like being carried out the establishment but Fabrì would rather be able to have an intelligible conversation with him.

Tonight, among the effect of the bit of alcohol and Ermal's very presence having him feel drunker, it was hard to not say anything. _Anything_ being all those thoughts that ran into his head every time they met, every time he heard the voice nothing short of angelic, every time he saw the curly head on TV.

It would have been so easy, too. The thoughts were all there in his head, flooding and invading with every chance. Almost too much. For fuck's sake, he was a tired 43-year-old father who had other things to deal with. However, this man had taken residence in his mind and outright  _refused_ to leave.

It was also difficult. There were so many thoughts, so many things about him that Fabri could not begin to explain, so much that the songwriter couldn't even put into song, but could try to. His smile brightened the darkest of rooms. His hair was a mystery of the world he would honestly not mind never solving. His eyes, they really said everything. His hands, gifted simply with ethereal grace as he performed. His heart, God, where could he begin without an end?

He could have told Ermal about how he walked into his life and gave him sense, purpose, inspiration, and everything he could never ask for nor be given as Ermal did.

But he didn't say anything.

Because he didn't want to, wouldn't, couldn't let go of his feelings or of him.

And this terrified Fabrizio: the mere thought that if he held him too close, Ermal would rip himself from his grasp and leave everything they built.

If he ever found out about how Fabrizio couldn't get enough of his hugs, their pecks on the cheek and the head, running his fingers through those curls, every grazing touch they shared. It felt selfish, and it was, most definitely, but Fabri couldn't help but want more. If he ever found out about how he would often let his touch linger just a little longer than it should to give a subtle hint, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

If he ever found out, everything would be lost. The music and the friendship, all lost. But the most painful of all, his love would remain. And it would kill him.

He knew he couldn't say anything, but every time he spoke with Ermal he found himself falling in love over and over again. How could he not, when his voice charmed him like a siren's song, when he opened his brain and heart, so beautiful, with his words like poetry. Like music. It only frustrated him more, and this frustration kept him awake tonight when he just wanted to get over it and sleep. He wasn't used to not sleeping unlike the other.

So, Fabrizio thought of an idea.

He'd write a letter, yes, that said everything he would like to tell if he weren't scared to death. Perhaps about how he went to sleep thinking of how his eyes smiled, that is, if he didn't imagine the disgust he would find in them if he dared told him that. Maybe how he had dreams where they slept together and wished he could wake up beside him, that is, if he didn't fear that he would then wake up everyday doomed to never see him. Then, of course, the letter would be left somewhere to gather dust, until Fabrizio found the strength or the opportunity to deliver it if he didn't end up trashing it. This way he could finally write his feelings out, could finally sleep. And it was at no cost to him other than paper, ink, time, and some boiling emotions he wouldn't expect to have at 43. Ermal had truly gotten to him.

So, late into the night, Fabrizio took a pen and paper and wrote out everything he could weave into words in an emotional and slightly tipsy state. He looked like a madman, hunched over his desk and scribbling. His handwriting wasn't exactly clean to begin with, and this didn't help. After all, he didn't plan on sending this anytime soon. In the end, he signed with perhaps the most important, most weighing words of all:

 _Ti_ _amo, Ermal._

With the last period dotted, Fabrizio folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope and sealed it before sliding it in the top-left drawer to let sit. And it did sit for a month, perhaps two. There was the occasional glimpse of the envelope when he was looking for something in his desk, but soon enough all the emotions within that envelope were buried and forgotten among various papers and items.

Until the day Ermal came to visit.

It was a lovely day, but in just a plain white T-shirt and jeans Ermal was more lovely when Fabrizio opened the door to greet him inside before giving him a hug. Ermal smiled, and Fabrizio could feel himself smile solely because his smile was contagious as a plague. There was the urge to lean in just enough to kiss, but in the months passed he had gotten used to suppressing his thoughts as best as he could.

 _"I think last time I visited I left my sunglasses here,"_ said Ermal, and as Fabrizio looked at him he found it a bit amusing that poor Ermal didn't have sunglasses on him, though he imagined he probably had as many pairs of sunglasses as he had hats.

_"Oh, yea, you did. They're in the top-right drawer of my desk, on top, if you want to go get them, I have to go--"_

_"Fucking hell, Bizio, do you need a catheter?"_

_"You're a bastard."_

As Fabrizio left to the bathroom while laughing, Ermal turned into the hall and into Fabrizio's room, already heading for the drawer he specified. If not now, they would both probably forget. And, as he said, when he opened the drawer his sunglasses were resting on top of some papers. He picked them up and in the process shifted a paper under them, revealing a sliver of paper with a small heart and the letter E in the corner.

Ermal's brows, had he had any, raised at the discovery. He didn't want to be nosey, it really was not his place to be looking through Bizio's stuff and if he was in his position he wouldn't be looking through everything. But Ermal grew curious because it seemed the name was cut off from another paper on top. Perhaps he met someone, an Emma? Who knows. So he shifted the paper above just a bit more.

_Ermal_

Well...It wasn't a very common female name, much less name. And how many Ermal's did he know? He never heard him spoke of another, he'd imagine it would have been something amusing to bring up, finding out that two people share a name. Ermal needed to know what this paper was.

 _"Fabri?"_ He called out but didn't get a response back. Probably taking his sweet ass time in the bathroom. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to look.

He carefully slid the paper--an envelope--out of the drawer. No, Ermal wouldn't be able to hide opening it, but there was a heard next to the name! It could not have been a--No, it could never be anything of the sort, they were friends. So what the hell was the heart next to his name? A friendship heart? For all he knew, there was a girl named Ermal. Maybe it was short for something. Ermala? Ermaliah? Who knew.

He could just lay it back where he found it, not say anything about it, forget it. But if he left it, he wouldn't forget it.

Ermal opened the envelope as carefully as he could while still being quick, and then he pulled out the folded sheet of paper, to reveal the messy handwriting which was definitely Fabrizio's as he could barely decipher it, and, oh dear God--

When Fabrizio had finally finished, he discovered Ermal to not be in the main room anymore, not resting on the couch with his recovered sunglasses or anything. So, he went to check his room. But really, it was easy to find his glasses, it couldn't have taken so long if he got up as he went to use the bathroom. He did, right? Or he was just getting it now.

He reached the doorway and peered in to discover Ermal standing near his desk, eyes hastily scanning a paper in his shaky hands. Initially, Fabrizio would have confronted him about looking through his things: he lets him go to his desk for something and he looks through his stuff, but he then registered Ermal's reactions. The shaky hand and the wide eyes, and the open envelope on the desk.

It hit him.

The top-right drawer.

Oh shit.

_"Erm--"_

His entire body jumped in surprise and, on cue, Ermal's head shot up to stare at Fabrizio. He was a deer in the headlights. Caught looking through his stuff, which was unforgivable.

However, any anger with Ermal was overwhelmed by fear. Everything had added up against him, and he could see the next minute play out. Ermal would run to the entrance, pushing Fabrizio aside and run out, to never call or answer.

To leave.

To lose the music and the friendship. For his bleeding heart to remain.

The air was so thick with tension as they stood there, both unsure what to do. Fabri didn't understand why Ermal wasn't running away from this, there was no way anything would go in his favor. He was debating running away himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle such rejection.

_"How long have you felt like this?"_

What? He couldn't decipher his tone, on top of the question itself, and it terrified him.

 _"...A long while. That was written only a month or two ago."_ Fabri found himself answering. He was surprised that he could clearly answer, much less speak at all. With his feet glued to the floor, so became his eyes as they avoided Ermal as he answered. If there was to be that disgust in his eyes, he would rather not see. He added softly,  _"It's still true, all of it."_

_"Bizio, look at me."_

The nickname was a good sign, right? Fabrizio had to make an effort to tear his eyes away from the floor, but he did as he said and lifted his gaze to Ermal. He could feel his chest tightening and his lungs twisting and he was certain he would choke. He thought he could see tears welling in Ermal's eyes, or perhaps it was just his own.

_"Ti amo."_

What?

_"What?"_

Instead of clarifying or repeating, Ermal stayed silent, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

This couldn't have been happening? Ermal should have been rejecting, even disgusted. He should have been running away, leaving him, just as his brain kept playing it. God, Fabrizio was so scared he could hardly think of anything else. He drew a deep breath.

_"Ti amo anch'io."_

Ermal smiled, and the only reason he wished he didn't was that it made Fabri want to cry with him. Being able to finally say those words lifted a twenty-ton weight off him, it was freeing.

Ermal set the letter down on the desk and approached Fabrizio. Despite the past few seconds, a part of him still expected him to finally walk out, so it still came as a surprise when he felt the other's arms wrap around him. He could only return the favor and hug him tight. They could feel each other's pounding hearts, could feel the other shaking.

 _"This isn't exactly how I wanted you to find out."_ Fabrizio couldn't help but crack a small smile. Though the letter was easily accessible, the last thing he expected was for Ermal to find it, but here he was now in his arms. Still here. It felt so surreal. Was this even real?

 _"I'm so sorry, it was wrong for me to look through your stuff and I know I shouldn't have and you won't forgive me but it had my name on it and I just--"_ Ermal vomited his words into Fabrizio's shoulder, his voice slowly breaking into pieces.

Before Ermal could continue, Fabrizio pulled away just enough to gently place one hand on his cheek, thumb wiping away a tear that began falling. Now they both looked at each other with watery eyes.

_"I'm the idiot that wrote your name on the envelope and then put your sunglasses in the same drawer without even thinking, after all."_

And they smiled at that.

And once again silence fell over them, but this time he could breathe in it. A question bounced around in his mind but he was hesitant to ask, afraid that a bad outcome was still imminent, afraid to break the magic that surrounded this moment. But if it hadn't gotten downhill yet...

_"Can I kiss you?"_

Ermal's eyes went wide, but a grin followed it and Fabrizio thought that he would give him a heart attack from such beauty.

_"Kiss me, you idiot."_

It took them a few moments for them to properly put themselves back together because they were both busy smiling and giggling. Yes, they would need to talk about what was next, and yes, Fabri would need to keep a closer eye on Ermal around his belongings for a bit, but these things could wait.

Finally, Fabrizio was able to lean in to kiss him. And to him, no letter, no word, no song could be as sweet as this moment. Their moment.

**Author's Note:**

> let us play "can you spot the song references"


End file.
